Short Stories

Revenge of the Trees

The clearing was as still as death except for the smirking man who looked out across it. A few months ago it had been a large forest filled with birds and animals. Now it was a huge empty space with nothing but a few walkways and a dozen wooden cabins for people to stay in. The man planned for it to someday become a town and then a city.
But for now he was satisfied. Holidayers would be paying him hundreds of dollars a night. He'd be rich!

A distant rumbling announced the arrival of the first guests. By then the man was lying half-asleep in bed with his cat warming his tummy from above the covers.
He was woken suddenly by a sharp rapping on his window. He sat up, stepped into his slippers and stomped tiredly to the door he pushed it open after snapping off a lonely twig that had somehow survived his saw and was growing on the handle.

Standing outside was an old lady who was waving her walking stick around angrily.
"That dirty old cabin you charged me $300 for for a night isn't even finished!" she snapped. "Come with me, I'll show you!"
Confusedly, the man stepped outside in his pyjamas and followed her over the wooden walkway. In the dark, he stumbled over something sticking out of the planks and stubbed his toes on another. He looked down. Could that be... a branch? Impossible. Probably just something dropped by one of the guests.

"We're there! Stay awake!" snapped the old lady, pushing open the door to Cabin #6.
"Aren't we going to go in?" asked the man.
"If you can!" said the old lady, and switched on the light. The man was horrified at what he saw.
It was like a forest inside the cabin. Branches barred the hallway and the flat walls were logs. Up above was a mass of green leaves and moss carpeted the floor.
"It's practically a forest now!" exclaimed the old lady, waving her walking stick above her head. "When I left it was only a few branches and now this!"
"Well, I can't get rid of it all now!" shouted the man. "Wait until tomorrow, okay?"
"But where will I sleep?" she complained, poking him in the ribs with her stick.
"Oh, just go and sleep in one of the spare cabins!" he snapped, exasperated. He stormed off back over the walkway, ignoring the bruises he got from tripping over what he decided was firewood, all the way back to his front door. His wooden doorknob seemed to be longer and thinner than usual and he had trouble opening it. Tired and confused he flopped onto his bed and fell asleep in minutes.

But he didn't sleep long. A knocking at the door woke him so he pushed the cat off his lap, pulled himself out of bed again, shuffled sleepily to the door and banged it open in impatience.
A young man was standing on the bottom step looking very angry. Looking out into the dark the man inside the cabin made out a line of furious, worn out people standing on the walkway.
"This is an outrage!" shrieked the old lady who was supposed to be sleeping in the spare cabin. "Is this supposed to be some kind of jungle?"
"If it's a joke, it isn't funny!" shouted someone in the crowd. "Where are we supposed to sleep?"
"Give us back our money!" yelled several others.
"In the MORNING!" screamed the man above the noise. "I'll get rid of it all in the MORNING!"
Then he slammed the heavy door shut in their faces, so tired that he didn't notice the greenness in the rustling ceiling or the leafy branches sticking out of the log walls only a metre away from the bed...

By the morning, the clearing showed no trace of the cabins or walkways it had once had. It was again a peaceful forest, alive with the sounds of birds and bees while the guests wearily packed their possessions into their cars.
But there was one group of trees that would remain pressed against each other forever, the trees that held the man who had cut their family down a prisoner. The cat sat innocently outside the jail, pleased with what its life would be now. The trees had had their revenge.